Don’t leave the gate open

I don’t know a single woman who doesn’t have a “work face.” No, I don’t mean makeup beat by the gods (although kudos to the readers who have that kind of time in the morning). I mean the shield we raise when we work with people who assume they know “where you’re coming from” rather than actually ask you.

Now, some folk consider it all just part of code-switching (for the record, my “work voice” is amazing), but my moms just calls it keeping the rent paid. Then again, the first time I complained about a female co-worker painting me as an “angry black woman” to our manager (she was trying to prove I wasn’t qualified for my position), moms looked at me and said, “You’re a black woman in Corporate America. You’re expected to be fat and happy. You want to step out with confidence? Expect to be called a bitch. You want that job? Put on your game face and dig in. Decide which you shows up in the workplace. Pick now or they’ll most certainly do it for you.”

I never forgot those words and have tried to put my best (read: professional) foot forward while still being authentically me ever since. Of course, I’ve occasionally failed to hit the right note and faced the consequences. Stereotypes are a hell of a thing and some biases (about the capabilities of Black folks in the workforce) are so deeply ingrained that post-Easter Jesus couldn’t buff them out. Every industry has its gatekeepers and one misstep (or bad impression) can see you barred. You can lose out even if the person holding the gate looks like you; hell, especially if they do. I learned the hard way: If you’re a Black woman out here working, that shield better be made of titanium.

I don’t have the luxury of hoping people will exert the effort to overcome their prejudices. I can never be underprepared, I can never be late and I can never, ever be viewed as making excuses. I’m great at what I do. I have no choice but to be. Because if I do fall short, any gains I’ve made will disappear as swiftly as swiping a dry erase board clean.

For example, I’ve recently watched a bloodletting happening in the Black nerd community on social media as a prominent figure faced a reckoning with the very people she leveraged to build her business in the first place. This situation reminded me that no matter how bad it can be combating negative perceptions of people of color, it’s nothing compared to being called to account by your own community.

Jamie Broadnax, creator and (former) managing editor of the website Black Girl Nerds, used her clout and position as an influencer to garner support for the now failed Universal Fan Con [FanCon, moving forward]. As a co-founder, she heavily promoted the initial Kickstarter and acted as one of the convention’s ambassadors on social media. She put her entire brand on the line to get behind this convention.

For those who don’t live that convention life, FanCon was to be a new convention held in Baltimore, Maryland in April. Organizers touted it as the “first multi-fandom Con dedicated to inclusion, highlighting Women, LGBTQ, the Disabled, and Persons of Color.” People were excited. So excited the Kickstarter raised $56,498, more than double its original campaign goal. I, too, put my money behind it. But, two years, and copious amounts of special guest announcements later, FanCon was postponed (indefinitely) one week out. By email.

It gets worse, but I need to stay focused. As the convention crumbled so too did Broadnax’s work face. First, there was the email that publicly disclosed recipient addresses because the BCC function wasn’t used. Then there was the email that preceded the official announcement about the status of FanCon (only Kickstarter backers received the correspondence). Finally, Broadnax swiftly moved to distance herself from the convention even going so far as to remove “co-founder” from her bio and referring to herself as merely a volunteer. Then, she issued a statement that triggered more questions than it answered.

All the while, those more familiar with her began to speak out and she quickly faced detractors. All were willing to speak frankly about a lack of professionalism and questionable work practices by Broadnax. Other influencers stepped forward to point out the inconsistencies in her behavior and demand transparency and called for accountability. If there was a misstep to make in navigating this debacle, then it sure seems Broadnax made it.

As a Black woman, this is definitely in the top five of my professional nightmares. However, I never leave my integrity open to question. People may not always like me, but no one will ever have a leg to stand on if they come for my credibility. If I give you my word you can be damn sure I’m going to break my back to keep it. And if that enterprise fails, you’ll know exactly where to find me and can expect me to be ready, receipts in hand, to be held accountable.

It’s apparent from the strength of the backlash that, along the way, Broadnax may have engaged in what could be described as questionable behavior. It’s also highly apparent that the greater blerd community is not here for fast-talk or short term appeasement measures.

Because if you set yourself up as a gatekeeper, you best be ready to competently man that gate.